


Taking You Home

by Azar



Category: Smallville
Genre: F/M, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-14
Updated: 2011-08-14
Packaged: 2017-10-22 14:42:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/239164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azar/pseuds/Azar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lex takes care of a sick Lana.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking You Home

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a present for a sick friend. Consider it the fanfic equivalent of a home remedy.

"ACHOO!"

Lex looked up from his coffee, an expression somewhere between amusement and concern hovering on his face. "Keep sneezing like that and you're going to frighten away the customers." His tone was only half teasing.

Behind the counter, Lana smiled miserably at him. Taking a good look at her made it pretty obvious why she'd been sneezing: her eyes were a puffy pink color, her nose swollen and rubbed a raw, angry red--the cause both a cold and the frequent application of tissues. She dabbed one at it now.

"I know," she admitted. Or croaked, rather. Her distorted voice gave new meaning to the proverbial frog in the throat. "But with this flu all over town, we're already short-staffed..."

The brunette shivered, running her hands up and down her arms in a way that suggested there was more to her illness than the obvious symptoms she couldn't disguise. Probably a fever and the all-over ache that always seemed to come with a virus, her business partner deduced with a frown.

"...someone had to come in, and I couldn't ask my waitresses to do something I wasn't willing to do myself."

While he admired her sense of responsibility and loyalty to her workforce, right at the moment Lex was more concerned with Lana's health, and growing even more so with each sluggish movement she made.

"Lana, when I suggested you needed to play hardball to keep this place afloat, I didn't mean play fast and loose with your health."

She smiled, that bright, cheerful smile that had half the men in Smallville who were under thirty bewitched. The one he knew better than to trust because it was charmingly insincere.

"I'll be fine. I'm young, I'm strong, I'm--"

She sneezed again, even more violently this time.

"You're miserable," the young mogul corrected. "Why don't you let me take you home?"

"But the Talon--"

"Is going to be deserted in about twenty seconds, I think," he chuckled, watching as another pair of customers dropped far too large a bill on their table and politely fled.

Lana shook her head, and the exasperated thought passed through her partner's mind that Nell must have read her the story of Cinderella backwards as a child, because she certainly seemed determined to go from riches to rags.

But misguided as it was, that determination was what had always intrigued him about Smallville's favorite reluctant royal.

"As long as I have customers, I'm going to take care of them," she vowed. Lips pinched, she lifted the two iced mochas she'd finally wormed out of her fogged brain and clumsied fingers and started out into the dining room.

Lex would often wonder, later, if he didn't know what was about to happen before she did. Almost the instant she reached his stool, Lana began to buckle. In one movement he was beside her, catching her limp form in his arms and the two mochas all down the front of his Versace suit. The glasses shattered at their feet.

He didn't even blink. "No more arguments. I'm taking you home."

Too tired and sick to protest, she just nodded and leaned heavily into his shoulder.

Quickly scanning the Talon for the only healthy waitress who'd managed to make it that night, the young Luthor flagged her over with his free arm and instructed her to clean up and close up for the night, with the promise of a hefty bonus in reward. A bonus that would, of course, come out of his own pocket since he knew Lana didn't have it to spare.

Glancing at the young woman in his arms who was now quite sound asleep, he smiled. Reaching down, he shifted her weight so that one slender arm was slung around his neck and her head rested on his shoulder, then scooped her up like a groom bearing his bride over the threshold. Then, in another reversal of tradition, he carried her over the threshold of their restaurant, *out* into the parking lot. Unlocking and opening the passenger door of his Ferrari with the remote on his keyring, he deposited her gently in the seat, fastened the seatbelt across her hips, and climbed into the driver's seat.

His first thought was to do as he'd said and take her home. But one reason Lana had been pushing herself so impossibly was because Nell was out of town for the week and had left the Talon completely in her niece's hands for the first time. Said niece was determined to prove herself worthy of the responsibility, if she didn't kill herself trying.

So, while Nell's absence didn't necessarily rule out her house, two things did. First, that he certainly wasn't going to leave Lana unattended in her present condition, and second, that he had no interest in having to explain to Clark Kent or anyone else what he was doing attending to Lana in her present condition. At least not until she was feeling better and out of the possible line of fire.

That left only the castle, which he'd rebuilt in his own image--so to speak--following his father's near-debilitating injury in the tornado. Thanks to his weakened physical condition, Lionel Luthor had been in no position to prevent his son from returning to Smallville. Besides which, he owed him his life. A debt which Lex had every intention of making sure he paid.

His passenger stirred as he paused the Ferrari at the gate to input the security code, and he gave her a surreptitious glance. Still asleep. Good--she needed the rest to heal.

With that in mind, he parked in the driveway and lifted her gently out of the car. He was no Clark Kent, made unusually strong by years of hard labor on a farm, but especially now Lana's slim form was light and easy to carry. And carry her he did, through the front door, up the stairs and into a room that had been kept immaculate but empty since his mother died.

****

It was there that Lana awoke the next day, with the afternoon sun shining in through the stained glass windows. At first, she just lay there, warm and comfortable in the soft, satin sheets and down comforter, almost forgetting that she was sick. Until...

"ACHOO!"

"Gesundheit."

Confused, she peeled open her eyes to find Lex sitting beside the bed in an elegantly carved wooden chair. He smiled at her and held out a simple white silk handkerchief, adding at her dubious look, "Trust me, it's a lot kinder to your nose than Kleenex."

Still looking uncertain, she accepted the little square of cloth and blew her nose as delicately as she could. He was right--the silk was *much* gentler on her skin than paper tissues. Blinking bleary eyes, she studied her surroundings. "Where am I?"

"This was my mother's bedroom, when we used to come here as a 'family'."

She heard the hint of sarcasm behind the word "family" and grimaced in sympathy. "What am I doing here?"

"Recuperating, I hope," was the enigmatic reply. She offered to return the handkerchief but he held up a staying hand. "Keep it. I have a dozen more just like it--they were my father's idea of a personal gift last Christmas."

He then reached for something on the bedside table, drawing her attention to it. Oh...

"Now, I know you probably don't feel much like eating right now but if you'll forgive me for sounding like a mother hen, you need to keep up your strength."

Folding down the legs of the tray, he set it gently over her lap and helped her sit up in bed, piling cushions behind her back to make sure she was comfortable. Meanwhile, Lana studied the contents: a bowl of chicken noodle soup, a plate of saltine crackers, and a tall glass of orange juice.

"Did you...?"

He chuckled softly. "In a manner of speaking. Cook made the soup from scratch and squeezed the juice, but I did pay to have the chicken and oranges flown in fresh from California."

As he'd hoped, that surprised a laugh out of her. "Lex...I..." Her smile was different this time, tender and genuinely grateful. "I don't know what to say."

He smiled in return. "You don't have to say anything. Enjoy your lunch and I'll be back when you're done."

****

While he was gone, Lana took stock of her current situation as she sipped her soup.

A few things raised some questions--such as the fact that she found herself in a very soft, comfortable nightgown that didn't aggravate her aching skin, instead of the clothes she knew she'd been wearing when she collapsed at the Talon. Had Lex...? She wasn't sure she wanted the answer to that.

The carefully-prepared meal was superb, though. Instead of stringy little bites of dark meat, there were tender white chunks bigger than her spoon, and the broth and noodles just flavorful enough to get through to her clogged senses of smell and taste without overwhelming them. The juice was sweet and pulpy, just the way she liked it, and the crackers tasted freshly-baked with just the right amount of salt. She almost felt better already just from eating.

What was a real balm, however, even as it confused her, was Lex's attentiveness. He was a good business partner and a good friend to Clark from what she could see, but aside from that he'd never shown much interest in her. Except for maybe the occasional snide remark about her deserving better than Whitney. Thankfully he'd scaled back on that in the wake of Clark's recent involvement with Chloe and Whitney's departure for the Marines...

She shivered a little at the thought. Only two years ago it would have been different, but now every time she thought of Whitney enlisting she found herself terrified of the day he'd write her to let her know he was being sent overseas, sent to war.

Her good mood and its effect on her illness spoiled by that unpleasant thought, Lana set down her spoon.

As if by magic, Lex reappeared. "Finished?" There was a lead crystal bowl in his hands, something golden-white partially visible through the facets of the design.

She wondered for a moment how he'd known she was done, and caught a knowing twinkle in his eyes as he returned to his seat beside the bed, holding out the bowl. "Lemon sorbet--there's nothing better for a raw throat."

She masked her amazement with a joke: "Lex Luthor, home care nurse."

His smile turned sad and she immediately regretted her words. "I helped take care of my mother when she was sick. Naturally, Dad objected to a Luthor doing anything resembling actual work, but she wanted me there and he didn't dare countermand her on her deathbed."

"I'm sorry," was the soft reply.

"I'm not," he admitted. "It gave us precious time together we wouldn't have had otherwise."

She was still a little startled that his bedside manner seemed to come with uncharacteristic frankness about his life. She'd known Lex for two years and never learned as much about him as she had just in the past hour.

He extended the sorbet to her again, and this time she took it. "Thank you."

"Any time."

****

"Why are you taking care of me?"

His eyes connected with hers and for a moment she couldn't breathe with all the emotion that lingered in them, right below the surface but still hard to see clearly through the veneer of Lex Luthor, Bothered By Nothing.

"Like I told Clark, once, I'd do anything for my friends."

It hadn't taken her long after waking to realize she felt much better than she had the night before. The cold still lingered, but had faded to a dull unpleasantness instead of pure agony. Apparently her caregiver was right--the rest and good meal was just what she needed.

Whatever the reason, she was improved enough that she felt almost brazenly bold in Luthor's presence. "I didn't realize we were friends. I thought we were partners."

He looked at her again, the veneer--to her surprise--much thinner this time. Transparent enough that she could see some of what was simmering beneath the surface. She swallowed a gasp as the realization of what that emotion was sent a tingle through her whole body.

"I'm learning," he drawled softly, "that the one doesn't necessarily preclude the other."

He rose again from his seat. "I'll be back to check on you in about an hour. Is there anything you need in the meantime?"

Still too stunned by what she'd seen, Lana only shook her head mutely. With a nod, Lex turned to go, then paused. Something strangely like uncertainty flitted across his face, then he turned back to face her and bent over the bed, laying a soft, chaste kiss on her forehead.

He left then, and she let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. A contemplative smile crept onto her face.

Whatever happened after she got well, one thing was certain. She would never look at Lex Luthor quite the same way again.


End file.
